Counting Stars - A Zayn Malik FanFiction

Chapter 1

*ring ring*

No.

*ring ring*

Go away.

*ring ring ring*

"Beverley. Open the damn door."

I roll out of bed and slowly pad to my front door. I open my door, and there stands my mother.

The same woman who kicked me out at 15.

The same woman who said I was useless, and that was all I'd ever be.

The woman that insisted I go to treatment.

For what you ask?

The severe depression that I had been diagnosed with at the age of 13. The depression that none other than my mother gave me.

I rub my eyes and ask "What do you want?" Not caring about my harsh tone.

"I'm here to take you to your facility."

She says facility, because it's a nicer word than mental hospital.

I sigh loudly and enter my room. I close my door before she can follow me inside.

She knocks on my door and asks "Are you getting dressed? We need to be there at 9:45 to meet the doctor."

Here I am, 19 years old, still being bossed around by the woman that I have despised for years.

"Fuck. Yes. Leave me alone."

I could care less if I hurt her feelings.

Anything I say could never match what she has said and done to me over the years.

I plug my iPod into the dock, and turn the music up.

 I strip off my clothes, and hop into the shower.

After washing my hair, I shave. This will be my last time shaving for God only knows how long.

At this 'Treatment Facility' we aren't allowed razors, because some people will try and kill themselves with them.

After thouroughly shaving, I grab a towell, and dry off.

I walk into my mess of a room, and grab a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and some slippers. If I'm going to this place, I might as well be comfortable.

All of the clothes I'm bringing are just like this.

I slowly get dressed, turn my music off, and get my duffle bag full of clothes.

I open my door and my mother jumps off of the couch and smiles.

"Are you ready?"

I want to scream.

"No." I say sarcastically. "I just thought I'd bring my stuff out here for no reason." I roll my eyes, and brush past her, and out the front door.

I walk over to her car as she rushes out of my apartment to catch up with me.

I stand impatiently at her car and scoff.

Here she is with this super expensive car, gucci bag, and everything, while I'm living in a piece of shit apartment, driving a car from a billion years ago, and old vans.

She is everything I hate in one human being.

She unlocks the car, and I get into the backseat.

I will NOT sit next to this woman.

She gets in, and starts the car without a word.

Good.

I just want to remember the calm before the storm.

~

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